


coffin dance.

by L_The_Banana_King



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Mementos (Persona 5), Self-Harm, coronavirus blues lmao, kinda OOC, sorry bout that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 08:54:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23348740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/L_The_Banana_King/pseuds/L_The_Banana_King
Summary: Akira didn’t want to turn back into the piteous spectacle that he was back in Inaba, so he kept his scars to himself.
Relationships: Amamiya Ren/Sakamoto Ryuji, Kurusu Akira/Sakamoto Ryuji, Persona 5 Protagonist/Sakamoto Ryuji
Comments: 3
Kudos: 156





	coffin dance.

**Author's Note:**

> *****MASSIVE TW FOR SELF HARM/DISCUSSIONS OF SELF HARM*****  
> anyway i wrote this because i need some sorta way to vent during this stupid ass quarantine and i dont sh anymore. havent done it since jan 25 of this year so gimme all the brownie points lmao

Mementos during the summer was the bane of Kurusu Akira’s existence. The dark and dank place was already disgustingly humid during the rainy season anyway - so to add the heat made it almost unbearable. On days that they did go, missions would be cut short or limited as possible. 

Maybe for others in the team the heat was easier to handle, for instance, many of them had removable layers like overcoats or accessories, they’d be back by the time they revisited mementos, so it was no big deal. And while, yes, akira did have his trenchcoat, his shirt underneath was sleeveless. He didn’t want to turn back into the piteous spectacle that he was back in Inaba, so he kept his scars to himself.

They were quite noticeable as well, running up and down every space of free skin, jagged and torn like an animal’s attack. Some of the scars hadn’t even healed back into smooth skin, they were rather bumpy, some could even be seen through some of his tighter school blazers. The less extreme scars were flat to his skin, but most noticeable in the winter, as they tinted purple against his naturally pallid complexion. 

He rather enjoyed the amount of layers that his outfit provided him, gloves, pants, mask, and all, as he never had to answer any uncomfortable questions. As far as he was concerned, he already hated the attention that he got, just from being convicted from a false accusation. The other thieves thought he didn’t notice the sad glances he’d receive from them, or sometimes even more heart-wrenching, the quiet sympathetic ones. Luckily, most of his bonds consisted of him solving other people’s problems, where he had less time to ponder about his lacking childhood and awful home life.

Sometimes he found it hardest to hang out with Ryuji, especially when over at his house, because his mother was so doting. She worked overtime, cooked most nights, and would text him every few hours to make sure he was safe. All while Akira learned not to call back home from his cell phone because the number was already blocked. He was pretty certain that the landline in Leblanc was blocked as well. It was sometimes like a deep pain from within his chest, that screamed every time Ryuji would talk about a nice thing his mom did, wishing desperately that he had a parent that remotely cared about his existence beyond improving their public image. Sometimes he wondered if he had a mom like that, would he also be just as carefree when dumping off his jacket?  
He found it easier not to dwell too long on the subject, unless he wanted to consider relapsing at just the thought of how pathetic he had it before Tokyo.

In the metaverse, he was powerful, charismatic, and confident - everything he couldn’t be in reality. Tearing down shadows became one of his favorite pastimes, as he found it cathartic to take out his turmoil on them. That day in Mementos had been a particularly needed trip - Akira had heard too many rumors, seen too many horrors that kept seeping into the corners of his eyesight, felt too many eyes locking themselves onto him. By the end of the school day, his palms had little red crescents carved into his flesh. Rounding the thieves up was easy enough, and so was getting into Mementos. 

Taking his first breath of the smoggy and humid air of mementos might as well have been the freshest of air for the wave of relief it provided Akira. As they traversed through Akzeriyyuth, the thieves struck down shadow after shadow, effortlessly gliding through the tracks. 

The first warning sign was the headache that began pounding against Akira’s skull. Paired with his flushed skin and his shallow and hurried breathing - he knew that he was getting closer and closer to a heatstroke. They were nowhere near a safe floor, nor a new path. Long ago many of his teammates had already shed their excess layers, as they queried him with their eyes alone.  
After they had completed a battle with a particularly difficult Anzu, Ryuji was the first to clap his hand on Akira’s back and say what everyone else had been thinking. “Hey man, you’re not lookin’ too good. How ‘bout you take off the jacket for now? Can’t be too comfortable in this kinda weather.”

Akira tensed under Ryuji’s touch, not looking him in the eyes when he shrugged him off. “I’m fine. Just a little tired, but we’ll be done soon.”

Ryuji pushed a little further, “If you’re not feeling 100%, we can always come another time!”

“I said I’m fine! We need to get some money for new weapons, and I’d like to get that done.” Akira’s tone was stony and had an air of finality, silencing Ryuji. “...I didn’t mean to raise my voice, but we gotta go.”

It only took two more battles until the team had collectively put their foot down. “Joker, you look like you’re gonna pass out. We can’t have our leader not on his top game when exploring a new area, so you need to either take off the jacket or stay back until we are good to go,” Morgana lectured.

Ryuji could’ve sworn that he had seen fear flash in Akira’s eyes, but he couldn’t be sure, as he quickly set his face into an expression of carefully crafted calmness. “I said,” he stumbled, and Ryuji swiftly acted to help him back onto his feet. “-said I’m fine.”

Ryuji placed his palm on Akira’s forehead, pulling it away when he felt the scalding skin. “Shit, ‘Kira, you need to sit down and get some layers off. Ya know heatstroke can cause comas ‘n shit, right?”

Akira wrestled his arm out of Ryuji’s grip to turn around and glare at him. “Fuck! Fine. Whatever.” He let his eyes drop to the ground, carefully focusing on the grime on the side of the rails as he let his coat slip down his arms, exposing his mangled flesh to open air for the first time in a while. 

He heard someone suck in a quick breath, another take a cautionary step back, and mostly, a deafening silence. “You happy now?” All animosity was sucked out of Akira’s tone, instead a shaky fear took over.

“Eff…” Ryuji walked to Akira’s side, his hands instinctively trying to wrap themselves around his shoulders, but out of fear, they hovered above them instead. “What- what happened dude?”  
Akira lifted his eyed for the first time since taking off his coat, shooting a deadpan look at Ryuji. “I don’t think you really need to ask in order to know, ‘Yuji.”

Morgana cleared his throat, clearly in a state of shock, and formulated a plan. “Um, you can put the trenchcoat back on and we’ll retreat for the day. We’ve obviously all gotten really tired, so I think maybe we can come back later.”

Akira instantaneously threw his garment back on, avoiding the sad glances he was receiving from the other thieves. “Sounds good to me, Mona.”

The ride in the Monabus was silent, the only noises that could be heard were the grunts and groans of shadows in the distance, or the sound of the wheels screeching to stops and turns.  
Akira could feel himself sinking back into the shell that he inhabited back when he first arrived in Tokyo; don’t speak unless spoken to, melt into the shadows, don’t be a burden, Akira. He felt himself slipping from reality - back into that dreamy and trancelike being that he had grown so familiar with over the years. This time he didn’t fight it, letting his mind drift into the dull calm of seeing himself from the third person. In this state, he would be so far from reality that he felt as if someone had stuck cotton balls in his ears, as everyone grew so muted around him.

They arrived at the turnstiles at the gates of mementos, with Akira breezily heading out, while the other thieves hesitantly lingered, unsure of what to say. Eventually, they ended up just following Akira out of Mementos.

They all got onto the subway together, all gradually leaving at their stops. Akira was so far into his disassociated state that he failed to register that Ryuji had never gotten off at his stop, rather, he had exited the subway with Akira when they made it to Yongen Jaya. 

Morgana slipped away, saying he was spending the night at Futaba’s, and then they were alone. Akira only managed to get back into his own body when he noticed that Ryuji was talking to him, and expecting an answer.

Akira blinked a few times, seemingly disoriented and out of place, when he finally answered Ryuji. “S- sorry, what did you ask?”

Ryuji gave Akira a concerned once-over before slowly restating his query. “I was asking if I could spend the night since today is Saturday?”

“O- oh! Yeah that's cool.” Akira was having a difficult time staying present, like his consciousness was clawing at the sides of his brain so he could stay awake. He barely noticed his fingernails digging themselves into the side of his arm until Ryuji was gently pulling them away, and silently guiding Akira to Leblanc.

Sojiro had closed early, so the boys wordlessly cleaned and closed leblanc before heading upstairs. As Akira sat himself down onto the couch, Ryuji had slipped beside him. Ryuji was unusually quiet when he spoke to Akira. “Do you remember, back when we ate at the ramen place, that I told you that you could count on me?” Akira nodded. “Why… wouldn’t you tell me about something like this, ‘Kira?” Ryuji’s voice wobbled, causing Akira to lock his eyes onto his face. Tears threatened to spill at the corners of his eyes, and it tore Akira’s heart in two.

“Hey, hey…” He gently rubbed his thumb under Ryuji’s eyes. “I don’t… I’m not sure how I could’ve ever brought it up.”

Ryuji suddenly switched gears on his emotions, batting Akira’s hands away while his voice raised. “You could’ve told me whenever, ‘Kira! I don’t get it! I kept... telling you about all this shit that happened to me while you were hiding this? It's not… was this just a one sided friendship? I thought I knew everything about you, but this is kinda freakin’ me out, dude! Do I know anything about you?”

Akira’s breath caught in his throat, and a rare thing for him occurred, as a tear dripped down his face. It was like all the air in the room had been sucked out of the window, as he found it harder and harder to breathe, the tears dripping down his face faster and faster as they kept coming. “Ryu - I - I’m so sorry.” He choked out.

Ryuji engulfed Akira into a hug, tucking his face into the side of his neck. “Aki - I’m not that mad… at you at least. I guess I’m just angry at myself, ya know? I feel like such a shitty friend, I mean, how could this just pass me by? Am I so ignorant that I can’t see your pain when it's this bad?”

Akira immediately protested. “No! No, Ryuji, this isn’t your fault, no one knew. Please… don’t use this as another way to get down on yourself. You’re the best thing that's ever happened to me, so please don’t think that you contributed in any way to this.” He drew his face out of Ryuji’s neck to look him in the eyes. “You’ve made me so, so much happier than I’ve ever been, so please don’t blame yourself.”

Ryuji whimpered at the things Akira was saying, his face turning redder and redder. “For… for real?”

Akira cupped Ryuji’s face in his hand as a weary smile grew on his face. “For real. Ryuji, I- … god, Ryuji, I love you so much, you know that?”

Ryuji’s face felt like it had burst into flames as he had to look away from Akira’s face. “I- um, I really like you too, ‘Kira.” He buried his face into Akira’s chest, too embarrassed to face him.

Akira snickered. “Dude, you’re acting like those chicks in shojo manga.”

“Sh- shut up, dude!” Ryuji playfully punched Akira’s arm. ‘I’m way manlier than that, you just caught me off guard!”

Akira giggled. “Yeah, yeah, I know.” The grin slipped off his face. “I’m sorry you had to see them. I didn’t mean to snap at you all like that.”

Ryuji cocked his head, almost like a puppy. “Why should you be sorry for showing us a different part of yourself?”

“I… they’re shameful, you know? I have to be strong for everyone, I mean, what good is a leader that does shit like this?” Akira was almost mumbling, his voice was so low.

Ryuji made Akira face him, and searched his eyes for meaning in his words. “Do you really think that, ‘Kira? ‘Cuz that's bullshit. You’re plenty strong as it is, and this kinda thing just shows that you’ve been able to overcome addiction. That’s tough, man. I mean, not to be cliche or anythin’, but it just shows that you’ve survived some tough shit.”

“Do… you want to see them?”

Ryuji’s eyes flicked away from Akira’s face. “If you want to show them. I don’t wanna make ya uncomfortable.” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

Akira nodded, and shrugged his school blazer off of his shoulders, exposing himself once again. Hesitantly, Ryuji let his palms ghost over Akira’s scars.

“Do they hurt?” Ryuji was almost whispering, like he’d break the moment like an avalanche if he moved too quickly or spoke too sudden.

“Sometimes they are itchy, and sometimes the big ones ache, but otherwise they’re just like normal skin.” Akira’s voice had a hoarse and husky quality about them, making him sound even more small and broken than he already was.

“Why’d you start?”

“...To be honest, I don’t really remember at this point. Not specifically, anyway. It’s been like this for a long time. I just know that I kept doing it because it felt good.”

Ryuji silently let his hands cascade over Akira's arms and shoulders, Akira occasionally tensing up at the soft touches. At one particularly sensitive scar located on Akira's forearm, Ryuji turned to him. "When'd you get this one?"

Akira took a shaky breath. "It's dumb but... the day before I went to trial, I was really anxious, and sometimes this kind of thing helped with that. Its pretty hard to worry about anything else when there's blood dripping out of your arm..."

Ryuji rubbed little circles onto Akira where he held his arm. "...Effin' hate Shido. Stupid bastard."

Akira snorted. "Though that is true - I'm at least glad that I got to come here and meet you." Akira ruffled Ryuji's hair. "Its getting late... is it alright if you stay with me tonight?" Akira tinted red.

"C'mon, dude, I already told you that my mom said it was cool if I could stay the night. Remember?"

Akira had to look away from Ryuji again. "I don't mean like that, 'Yuji."

Ryuji's face slowly twisted into a look of understanding. "...oh. OH! That - thats cool with me. If it's cool with you. But it's cool if you aren't too, ya know?" Ryuji rambled.

Akira giggled. "I'm the one who asked, dumbass." He pecked Ryuji on his lips.

Ryuji practically blue screened as Akira snickered. Ryuji, on autopilot, was able to settle into the shitty mattress on top of the boxes in the attic with Akira. He had his head tucked into Akira's neck, still absentmindedly tracing the jagged skin on Akira's arms. He drifted to sleep to the sound of Akira's breath evening, not even knowing that he was so crucial for Akira quitting.


End file.
